


i'm sorry that we never made it

by Kr_ys



Category: Alexander Hamilton - Ron Chernow, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Drama, Emotions, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hamilton - Freeform, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, Or some popcorn if you prefer, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Soulmate AU, Tension, grab some tissues, love-hate relationship, strings au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-04-04 09:17:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14017101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kr_ys/pseuds/Kr_ys
Summary: "we talked about making it. i'm sorry that you never made itand it pains me just to hear you have to say it."Thomas Jefferson has a gift that controls his life.Thomas Jefferson has a gift that controls his emotions.Thomas Jefferson meddles with others' fates, and soon findshe'll regret meddling with his and Alexander Hamilton's.a.k.a.Contrary to popular belief, Thomas Jefferson has feelings.So does Alexander Hamilton.But neither of them will acknowledge it.Alex is trying to find a solution, trying to get closer to Thomas,and Thomas is running, running towards his own type of solution,one that, unbeknownst to him, will harm both of them in the long run.





	1. you knew the game and played it

Thomas had always thought he was different, in the way he talked, walked, worked, socialized, everything. Even from the moment he was six years old and he first noticed the strings. The little tiny, colorful strings, some blue, some red, some green, and even, rarely, yellow.

You'd think any normal child his age would excitedly point out the strings to his parents or his teacher or classmates, but he didn't. He stayed quiet and calmly watched them, trying to figure out why they were there. He stared for what seemed like hours on multiple occasions at people crossing the street or coming to pick up their kids, strings tied in various places on their body, sometimes their legs, wrists, arms, ankles, rarely even their waists or their upper body.

Thomas soon found out the meaning of these colorful strings. It somehow terrified him and excited him at the same time. The strings indicated what relationships people were destined to share. He'd figured out the color coordination as well; red meant soulmates, blue meant close friends, green meant enemies, and yellow meant... well, he didn't know yet, but he was still trying to learn, even eleven years later, a few weeks after he'd turned seventeen.

It was the first day of his senior year and he'd had a blast the year before, apart from the annoying strings always distracting him or obstructing his peripheral view of things. He'd gotten used to it, but still couldn't find a way to tune them out or ignore them. He wasn't sure if he wanted to, anyways. As far as he knew, no one else could see the strings but him.

Thomas faintly remembered confessing to his mom about his strange powers once in second grade. His mother had been highly religious, and was extremely upset at his words. She'd nearly burst into tears as she swiftly drove him to a therapist and tried to coax the "visions" and "hallucinations" out of him through therapy catered specifically to young children with "wild imaginations." Thomas scoffed aloud to himself. He'd pretended to be convinced the strings were nothing but a figment of his imagination, but he knew he saw them. He knew he wasn't delusional or wildly imaginative. He was special, and he was going to embrace it, even if he couldn't do it aloud or visibly.

Thomas was walking to his best friend's house, smirking as he saw James bundled up in multiple layers of winter clothing. "Thomas, it's freezing," he heard James remark in annoyance and bewilderment as he approached him and left the doorstep of his home.

Thomas gave a simple roll of his chocolate-brown eyes. "It's barely September, James." He couldn't help the teasing smirk that danced across his plush lips as he gazed at James' exasperated facial features. Just as he uttered his friend's name, a frigid breeze swept through him like a ghost, and he shivered involuntarily, tiny goosebumps forming on his exposed arms, his shoulders neatly tucked away in his maroon short-sleeve shirt he was now regretfully wearing.

James cast Thomas a knowing look and reached into the pocket of his thick blue-gray coat, pulling out a pair of gloves and a beanie, both with silk fabric. He held a hand out to Thomas, who sighed but took them, slipping the woolly mittens onto his ice-cold hands and the beanie onto his head, smoothing down several of his curly ebony locks, multiple curls springing up buoyantly in their wake. 

"Let's go," James chuckled softly, sprinting ahead of Thomas before quickly pausing to take a breath and recover himself from a tiny coughing fit. Thomas gently patted James' back before continuing at a slow, steady pace to accommodate James' shorter legs.

As they neared school, Thomas couldn't help but be captivated by the string connecting himself and James. It was a deep blue color, designating them to be close, life-long friends. Thomas glowed with happiness and warmth, smiling to himself before snapping back to reality and seeing James' careful, coordinated gaze trained curiously on him, scrutinizing his expression for any signs of emotion.

"You still a bit sleepy, Thomas?" James murmured softly, so only his friend could hear, eyes flashing with sympathy. Thomas just nodded blankly and focused on the path ahead as they entered the halls of their school.

*****  
"First day of senior year! Hope all you seniors are excited for the new year and determined to succeed!" His homeroom teacher, Mrs. Washington, blinked fondly at her new students, her warm, motherly blue gaze traveling equally across all of them, visibly softening when she recognized students she'd grown familiar with over her years of teaching at Washington High School. 

Mrs. Martha Washington was a very well-known and likable teacher, as her husband, George Washington, was the principal and founder of the high school. It'd only been around for half a decade, and Thomas had entered in on his freshman year, when it was only a year old.

Thomas personally found it amusing to attend a high school younger than he was. He tried his best to focus in class, but couldn't help but let his watchful eyes stray to his classmates. 

In the front-row, which had a capacity of five, sat Angelica Schuyler, a girl who was kind but fiercely protective of her sisters, a red-haired boy Thomas couldn't place a name to, a blonde girl Thomas had never seen before, a petite, blue-eyed girl named Elizabeth Schuyler, and Alexander Hamilton, whom had been a pair in the rear to Thomas and many of their classmates since he arrived here freshman year. 

Thomas remembered most of the kids in his class, as the majority had attended Washington for at least two years. As the strings slowly became more apparent in his vision, he concentrated on deciphering their meanings. Angelica sported a green string that was tied delicately around her right wrist, and led to a girl in the back of the class. Thomas identified her as Maria Reynolds, and sudden shock coursed through him as he noticed a red soul-mate string connecting her and Elizabeth Schuyler.

"This will surely be an interesting year," Thomas thought silently to himself. He scanned the room for other kids bearing strings, and noticed Martha Washington had a red one neatly tied around her left wrist, quivering lightly and actively astonishing Thomas.

He wordlessly watched it, practically on the edge of his seat, before George Washington popped into the room to say hello and give a motivational speech about the new year and staying positive. His string connected to his wife's, and Thomas realized they were perfect for each other. A note of jealousy and envy pinched his heart; he wanted something just like that. 

He fantasized about that for a while until Mr. Washington bid his goodbyes and left the room so his wife could resume teaching. Thomas then felt his heart skip a beat at the red bow slowly forming on his wrist, the string stretching to the front of the room. His soulmate shared his homeroom. He sat up, keeping his back straight and posture anything but hunched, stretching his neck to try and place who his soulmate was.

Thomas sank back into his seat, waiting for class to end, nearly biting his nails off, when the bell rang and he got up swiftly, grasping his backpack tightly in his hand, his fists nearly turning a skeleton-white from the frantic pressure. He released his painfully tight grip on the straps of his backpack and maneuvered his head to spot the direct connection between his string and his soulmate's.

Alexander Hamilton bore the other end of the string. It was tied around his neck like a noose.


	2. it kills to know that you have been defeated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boy Thomas finds out something life-changing about Alexander.   
> Alexander finds out Thomas has anxiety.

   Thomas felt his breath hitch in his throat at the sight of the string tied ever so lovingly around Alexander's neck, attached to Thomas' wrist. Thomas sat down, feeling short of breath, and buried his head in his hands with a long sigh to regain his composure and not let his emotions overtake him.

   He felt his heartbeat quicken drastically as a familiar voice piped up in front of him. "Hey there, Thomas... are you alright?" Thomas peeked through his fingers to see none other than Alexander Hamilton standing in front of him, a deeply concerned expression reflected on his face.

   "Of course I am," Thomas snapped, curling his lip. "Why do you suddenly care?" Hostility rolled off of him in waves, as he impulsively decided it was his only defense mechanism to be cold and distant to Alexander; things had always been that way, after all. Why should anything change now?

   "Because..." Alexander's voice trailed off and he looked around quickly at the other students hurriedly packing up their belongings, some nosily staring at the pair, one leaning worriedly over the other's desk and speaking in a hushed voice.

   "Come with me," Alexander said bluntly, getting up and slipping his backpack tightly over his broad shoulders, turning to walk out of the classroom, but not before giving a friendly wave of goodbye to Mrs. Washington, who returned it with a fond, pearly white smile.

   Thomas hesitantly followed the shorter boy through the hallways of their school. He saw people whispering and heads turning as they saw the two rivals walking so close together, with such serious looks on their faces. Thomas felt anxiety creep up on him and he felt his heart palpitating dangerously fast.

   He stopped dead in his tracks, hanging his head in his hands again, shutting his eyes tightly, screwing up his face as if the sun burned it, and feeling all of his fears and loneliness sweep over him at once, here in the hallways where everyone could see. A soft, murmured sob escaped from his full lips, and he threaded his fingers in his own fluffy brown hair.

   A firm but gentle hand wrapped around his wrist forced him back into reality and he took a deep breath, exhaling nearly silently, holding his breath until he felt like he was going to collapse. 

   When he reopened his eyes and released his firm grip on his own locks, he was in a dark, eerily silent classroom with Alexander, the blinds drawn shut.

   Thomas' eyes locked with shock in Alexander's. The immigrant looked equally surprised, but calm. Much calmer than Thomas, that's for sure. Alexander's eyebrows raised with worry and he made a move towards Thomas, who flinched and swiftly stepped backwards almost immediately.

   "I'm sorry," Alex - no, Alexander, - huffed out, a sense of compassion repeating in his soothingly quiet words.

   "You don't need to be. I'm sorry for freezing out there," Thomas huffed lightly, his eyes naturally drifting to the string tied around Alexander's olive-colored neck. He gulped lightly, swallowing nervously as his gaze scanned over the rest of the shorter boy.

   "So, what did you bring me here for?" Thomas ran an awkward, shaky hand through his curly locks, eyeing Alexander not with suspicion as he usually would, but with curiosity.

   "I see it, too. The strings, that is." Alexander finished with a sharp exhale, averting his brown eyes to the floor, then to Thomas' wrist, the blood-red ribbon formed lightly, smoothly brushing against his veins.

   Thomas' eyes widened and he nearly felt his world come crashing down. His entire life, he'd been alone and isolated with his feelings of loneliness. He'd thought no one else could relate to his biggest problem, and that no one ever would, and he'd suffer through it his entire life, and he'd be anxious and feel misunderstood and unloved forever and-

   "Thomas?" Alexander closed the gap between them, grasping Thomas' hand tenderly in his own after removing his mittens. Alexander just stood there and gazed up at him in immense affection, the brown depths of his eyes so deep Thomas thought he might just drown in them.

   Thomas relaxed under Alexander's touch, feeling his heart sing as his soulmate brushed his thumb in a doting manner over his quivering palms. Thomas swallowed again in anxiety before lowering his head to press his lips to Alexander's, enjoying how soft and tender they were.

   Alexander shut his eyes and gave a small hum of satisfaction, clasping Thomas' other hand tightly. Now both their hands were intertwined. Thomas felt like he couldn't breathe, like Alexander was his very oxygen he'd taken his entire life to find.

   With a soft sigh, Thomas parted from the other, and Alexander peered steadily up at him, a deep maturity and intelligence resonating in both pairs of dark, calculated brown eyes. This was too much. Thomas felt his eyes stray reluctantly yet again to Alexander's neck.

   "I've never seen that before... What does it mean?" Thomas breathed out heavily, fingers gently touching the string for the first time. Alexander visibly winced and Thomas quickly retracted his fingers. "I don't know." Alexander chuckled lightly in response. "But I'm sure it's nothing. It being on your wrist doesn't mean anything specific, does it?"

   Thomas stared down into Alexander's ocean-like gaze and tried again to let himself be swayed by the other's calming words, but couldn't. He fought back against the waves indignantly, separating himself from the shorter boy, whose eyes widened, as if he were in physical pain just from them being apart for a few heartbeats.

   "No. I...that string has to mean something. I can't...I can't do this to you, Alex. I'm so sorry," Thomas gasped before turning around and hightailing it out of the abandoned classroom, slamming the door behind him and racing out into the nearly-deserted halls. Knowing he didn't have to worry about getting to his next class was good, since he had a free period.  
  
   But Alexander did, too. That was the problem. So Thomas had to find somewhere to hide. As he looked around, gradually growing more and more panicked, Alexander's worried, desperate voice sounded loudly behind him, the first time Thomas had heard him seeming so emotional.

   "Thomas, please come back! You can't just run from your problems, and... I'm not one of your problems! I'm supposed to be your solution to all of them!" Alexander called hopefully after the taller boy, approaching him swiftly and reaching his hands for the other's.

   Thomas withdrew his with a sharp hiss, whirling around agilely and staring coldly into the shorter's eyes. "Alexander, I don't want you dead because of my selfishness and stupidity. I can't do this to you, and I won't."

   "But it won't kill me! That's ridiculous! Soulmate strings have never killed anyone, and they never will!" Alexander countered sharply, again grasping for his soulmate's wrists like a child grasping for its toy.

   Thomas looked at the string around his wrist, then its connection to Alexander's neck. He choked on tears and spun back around, racing down the now-empty hallway, zigzagging and dashing back and forth to get his desperate soulmate off of his trail.

   He didn't want to hurt Alexander, he couldn't, he wouldn't, he shouldn't, but he wished he could go back to that moment. Wished he could let himself be selfish for a moment, let himself be convinced Alexander would be perfectly fine if they fell for each other and spent the rest of their lives together.

   Thomas eventually found his way back to the abandoned classroom where they'd started out. Hearing Alexander's thunderous footsteps scuffing against the smooth flooring and about to skid around the corner, Thomas dashed inside before cursing silently at himself and racing into a tall cabinet to the left. Alexander seemed to instinctively notice Thomas had re-entered the empty room, because he followed shortly after, yet didn't find Thomas right off the bat.

   Thomas sat there, trying to steady his breathing and keep it quiet, his hands and feet shaking and his heart thundering in his chest, probably loud enough for Alexander to hear. Alexander continued searching around the classroom, giving broken whispers of Thomas' name, before the whispers and the sound of quiet footsteps stopped.

   Thomas cautiously opened the cabinet door to peer out, and saw Alexander with his back to him, sitting on a round table, cupping his face in his hands and giving quiet, hushed sobs, shoulders quivering lightly. He was a trainwreck.

   Thomas frowned, feeling his heart nearly split in two. He eased himself onto his unsteady feet, nearly tripping but managing to stay undetected. He considered slipping out the back door for a moment. Heading towards there, he turned his head at the sudden mutter of "Stay... Please...?" coming from Alexander followed by a small, audible whimper before the other slapped his hand over his mouth.

   He couldn't leave Alexander like... this. He walked up to Alexander, searching for something to say, reaching out a gentle, soothing hand.

   Instead, Thomas gently lifted Alexander from his odd choice of seating and hugged him close, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and clutching him protectively close. Alexander gasped lightly before burying his face in Thomas' shoulder and quieting his cries, drying his tear-stained cheeks against the taller's thick hoodie. Thomas just rested his chin on the other's shoulder, whispering both words of comfort and sweet nothings.


	3. i see the wires pulling while you're breathing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a lack of communication causes a rift in our boys' relationship that neither knows if they'll be able to fix ft. laf, john, + herc.   
> also, first chapter that features alex's p.o.v. in it.

   By the time lunchtime rolled around, Thomas had no sense or idea of what in the world he was doing. He was just walking to his usual seat when Alex piped up behind him, a lunch tray mostly filled with vegetables clutched in his hands.

   "Where're you going, Thomas?" he questioned, a puzzled look in his brown hues. Thomas quirked a skeptical eyebrow at him. "To sit with Jemmy?" Confusion sprinkled his voice, as if he were slowly explaining to a kindergartener why red and blue mixed together made purple.

   "But, um, I thought you were going to sit with me..." Alexander's voice trailed off and he looked up at Thomas with his pleading doe eyes, strongly resembling a lost puppy.

   Thomas didn't give in. He shook his head softly, a light chuckle emitting from his lips, which seemed to frustrate Alexander. "I always sit with James, that's how it's been since middle school," Thomas responded curtly with a dip of his head and a redirection of his feet.

   "Thomas... Sit with me, please. It would mean a lot to me," Alexander murmured, walking forward and brushing Thomas' hand with his. Thomas stiffened lightly and snatched it away upon instinct, hearing Alexander sigh behind him. "My apologies, but I can't just ditch my friend. See you later, Hamilton."

   "Hamilton? We're going by a last-name basis now? What are we, forty-year-old football coaches or somethin'?" Alexander's voice was beginning to raise, immediately drawing the attention of nearby teenagers, curiosity taking place of their hunger for their lunch.

   Alexander stepped closer to Thomas, lowering his voice. Thomas was sure James was beginning to worry, just sitting alone in their usual spot, wondering if Thomas had ditched him forever, feeling alone and vulnerable and... Thomas couldn't stand this a second longer. "We kissed, you don't call someone you kissed by their last name. Besides, why don't you want to sit with me? Is there something wrong with my friends or-"

   "I can't do this. I need to get to Jemmy, I'm sorry." And like that, Thomas was gone. No hand reached out after him, no pleading cry rang out after him like he expected. And he welcomed the silence and lack of physical contact with welcoming arms as he happily greeted James and sat by him to trade lunches with him, trying his hardest to push Alexander to the far depths of his mind, at least just for the remaining twenty minutes of lunch.

*********  
   Alexander was fuming. He didn't know whether to feel sad and abandoned or angry and betrayed. Thomas was his soulmate, they both knew it. Their whole lives, they were meant for each other because they were the only ones who could see the strings.

   Alexander pondered the moments he'd jealously glared at James for having a neat blue string connecting him to Thomas, until the red one formed. Alex didn't know what it meant, but it didn't scare him. He didn't want anything to get in the way of their destined love, but obviously, Thomas didn't feel the same way. He couldn't, if he was willing to just leave his soulmate behind to spend time with his friend.

   Alexander sank into his designated seat with his friends, and they quickly noticed the tell-tale signs of defeat and conflicted emotions scribbled along his facial features. "You look like you need a hug. May I give you a hug, mon ami?" Lafayette's familiar voice made Alexander instantly feel a bit better, giving a shy nod, as the taller boy walked over to him and wrapped his arms around him in a brotherly embrace.

   "Group hug!" Hercules' bass voice bellowed, as he scrambled clumsily over the cafeteria table and pulled both of his friends close to him, Alexander and Lafayette erupting with laughter, smiles blossoming on their lips. "Get in here, Jackie!" Alexander grasped John lightly by the collar of his shirt, and for the first time, Alexander noticed the string connecting him and John. Yellow. Oh, no.

   Did that mean... Yellow meant... He'd always had a secret crush on John, and he was somewhat convinced John partially returned the feelings in some way, but did the yellow string indicate unrequited love? Did John think Alexander didn't love him back or was it the other way around? Maybe John really only saw him and Alex as friends, and Alexander was being weird about things.

   The yellow string was tied around John Laurens' sleeve, and Alexander remembered with a pang the constant times John had said or done something that screamed the phrase "wearing your heart on your sleeve". It all made sense. John believed Alexander didn't reciprocate his romantic feelings.

   John blushed immensely as he was tugged closer to Alexander, and he eagerly hugged the shorter boy, calmly pretending to sniff his hair. "Alex, what shampoo do you use? Your hair smells great!"

   "Actually, it's body wash, I ran out of shampoo a week or two ago," Alexander teased back, both boys' jaws parting with contagious laughter. Lafayette nudged John towards Alexander, and John glared sharply at the Frenchman as he gave a knowing glance.

   "Hercules, I'd like to buy you some dessert. Come with me to pick something, mon ami?" Lafayette wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at Hercules. "But I don't want- Oh, alright." Hercules quickly understood when Lafayette lightly prodded him in the side, and the two headed towards the lunch bar.

   John stared after them, looking exasperated. "I don't know what's going on with them, sorry, I-" A million thoughts racing through Alexander's mind and a million palpitations running their courses through his swiftly-beating heart, he leaned over and sealed his lips around John's, who let out a muffled gasp at being caught off-guard, but eventually returned the kiss.

   Clapping could be heard, as well as a few hollers and whistles of encouragement, probably courtesy of Lafayette and Hercules, before the two separated and gazed deep into one another's eyes. John took Alex's hand lightly in his, covering it with his other hand and looking so adorable Alexander could barely restrain himself from swooping for another kiss.

   Before he could do so, his attention shifted to the sound of something soft and light dropping. Alexander turned his head slowly, shock welling in his gaze as he saw Thomas with his back to him, walking away, James beside him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder and patting him in reassurance.

   Alexander nearly tripped as he raced over and picked up the multi-colored bouquet of flowers, tied together with a hair-tie, a small red note attached that stated,

  
_"To: My Beloved, Alex,_   
_I'm sorry for how I've been acting, please forgive me. I love you, and I promise I'll try to make this work.                                                           - Thomas."_

  
   The slightly scattered flowers and the note suddenly felt ten times heavier in his hands.


	4. you knew you had a reason.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thomas makes a chilling discovery. alex is blindsided.   
> a.k.a.  
> what happens when you cut a soulmate string.
> 
> (blood tw; not too detailed or gory though)

   Thomas sobbed lightly into his hands, which covered his tear-stained face as James ushered him through the crowd of high-schoolers checking their lockers and roaming the hallways in their cliques. They laughed as the emotional wreck of a boy passed by, but a few were kind enough to shoot sympathetic glances his way or ask "What's wrong?" to James, who dismissively waved them off. He nudged Thomas into the men's room and pressed on the cold metal faucet, even colder water spraying onto his hands.

   He gently splashed some onto his friend's face, until Thomas whimpered incoherently, and he stopped. Thomas lowered his hands, which had been protecting his pitiful, grief-stricken expression. This time, he flicked freezing water onto his cupped palms and wiped it over his face, feeling pathetic.

   Alex didn't want him. Alex didn't care for him. Alex didn't want him. It'd all been a sick prank or a joke, or some kind of scheme to make John guilty so he'd come running into Alex's arms the second Thomas turned his back. Thomas was nothing to Alex. So Alex would be nothing to Thomas from now on.

   Thomas pressed his teeth to his thumb, and James raised a brow before swatting his friend's hand away.   
"Don't bite yourself, what's wrong with you?" James muttered sternly, lowering his voice so none of the other boys in the restroom could hear him.

   "There's a thorn stuck in my thumb, I wouldn't bite myself for no reason," Thomas stated with a roll of his eyes which elicited a small, relieved chuckle from James. "Lemme see," James murmured, and took Thomas' hand gently in his own, inspecting it closely with narrowed brown eyes.

   "Let's see if the nurse has any tweezers," James suggested. Thomas numbly nodded his head, the throbbing pain in his head and the metaphorical pain in his heart both too exhausting for him to bother to fight back with his quick wit and sharp tongue, as he'd usually do. James noticed the change in his close friend's behavior, and again reinforced a comforting palm on the taller boy's broad shoulder, which seemed to relax Thomas, at least for the moment.

   As soon as they got into the nurse's office, she pulled out a pair of metal tweezers and quickly Thomas was talking about how he had an exam to take and he could do this afterwards on his own time. James shook his head and informed the nurse his friend was lying. She tutted lightly before instructing James to hold Thomas in place as she pulled the thorn out.

   James did so, but Thomas eventually broke free of his grasp, writhing erratically, and the tweezers pierced more than just the thorn. It cut a part of his skin, and blood dripped down his finger. He let out a plaintive cry and his mouth darted down to suck on his thumb and nurture the new wound, but the nurse slapped his hand down, just as James had done before in the bathroom.

   She furrowed a blonde brow and finished removing the thorn, much to Thomas' relief. She then placed a bandage on his wound, gave some instructions and some pain medicine, and sent him and James back to class. Thomas was extremely thankful he shared his sixth period with his best friend. He didn't know how he would get through it without him. The two trotted back to class, James clutching a late slip, as the bell rang but they still walked at a calm pace, enjoying one another's company.

******  
   Alexander felt horrible. Alexander felt worthless. Alexander felt disgusted. Not with Thomas, but with himself. He'd thrown a fit in front of everyone, then Thomas had tried to make up with a beautiful, romantic gesture, only to see Alex making out with his childhood friend? Disgusting.

   Alex knew Thomas deserved better. Better than him. But Alex needed Thomas in his life. He didn't know how to make it better, he didn't know how to heal Thomas' emotional wounds, he didn't know how to fix the problems he'd created so callously and unknowingly.

   Alexander sank into his seat, slumped for the beginning of the period, perking up lightly when Thomas and James arrived late and the teacher scolded them before allowing them to return to their seats. Alex noticed the bandage around Thomas' finger and immediately worry set in.

   Thomas' assigned seat was right behind him, and Alex twisted around to face him, knowing he'd probably regret the decision. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, trying to maintain a genuinely concerned expression, attempting to offer Thomas a sincere, reassuring smile.

   "Oh, so all of a sudden, you care about me?" It was more of a growl than a question as Thomas stated it quietly with cold, dark eyes that didn't look at Alex with affection or want or love as they used to. It was replaced with betrayal, hurt, and disgust. Just as Alex had anticipated. Just as he expected. Just as he knew he deserved.

   Alexander winced softly and turned back around to avoid the teacher's scolding, as well as the scalding glare Thomas' eyes bore into him, even with his back to him. He felt as if his spine was being burned with a torch, lit by the fire in his soulmate's eyes, that Alex didn't know how to put out.

   Thomas requested to change seats, and Alex felt his heart hurt even more, but at least he wouldn't feel his spine burning as much, or the heavy weight of Thomas' increasingly scornful gaze on the back of his head the entire class.

   Thomas moved near James, and he bent his head to whisper to the other. Alex figured he was obviously talking about how annoying, how irrational, how ashamed Alex was and should be. Alex ducked his head in guilt, for once glad John wasn't in this class. Nor were Lafayette, or Hercules. He didn't have his group in this class, but he was somewhat happy, as they didn't have any chance of seeing the pathetic look on his face and the desperation in his downcast eyes.

   Alex's gaze lifted as a paper plane shot through the air and landed promptly on his desk. The teacher's back was to the class, and only a few students seemed to notice the note, but they were focused on writing their own notes. Alexander excitedly grasped for it once he read it was from Thomas. All it said was: "Watch this." He quirked a skeptical eyebrow at Thomas, gaze raising before utter terror rose in him.

   James was deeply concentrated on his notebook, but Thomas held out a pair of sharp scissors, likely a brand-new pair, judging from the fresh, well-done paint job and the satisfying snips it made. The snips it made in the direction of a red string connected between Aaron Burr and Theodosia Bartow.

   Thomas must've known Alexander looked up to Aaron, both metaphorically and literally. He thought Aaron was a genius, and was inspired by him all throughout middle school, before losing his fascination in him. The two remained casual friends, however, and Alexander knew Aaron cared greatly for this girl, Theodosia, in only two of his periods. He expressed his love for her through writing he showed to Alex, and then sent to her upon his approval.

   Alexander was terrified by the idea of the string being cut. Could it even be cut? It was time to find out, he guessed, as he opened his mouth to yell out "No!" or "Wait!" but he was a second too late as Thomas sliced the razor-sharp scissors directly over the soulmate string.

   It turned black before crumbling and disintegrating into a pile of ashes on the floor. Now it was visible to everyone. "What's on the floor?" a few bewildered voices chattered, echoing each other's confused questions as they bent to glance at the pile of black dust.

   Aaron had been waltzing confidently up to Theodosia's desk, out of view of the teacher, and placing a love letter, hand-written and checked by Alexander himself, adorable little hearts scattered all over the paper. Alexander watched with dismay as, upon being presented with the lovely confession of affection, Theodosia ripped it up in front of Aaron's widened brown eyes.

   He watched the shreds drop to the floor, the little hearts crumpled and barely visible. He frowned lightly, tears visible in his eyes he was trying hard to fight back. Alexander felt his heart twist with compassion. He was about to furiously march over to Thomas' desk and demand to speak with him, but several gasps and screams cut off any thoughts of doing so.

   Alex turned his head and was shocked at the scene that lay before him. Theodosia was bent over her desk, convulsing limply before going completely still. Blood and foam bubbled at her full lips, dripping down her chin and face and onto her desk. The whole class had a front-seat view of the horror show. The teacher yelped and grasped the phone, calling 911 and urgently pressing a finger onto the unmoving girl's neck to check for a pulse.

   The teacher grimly shook her head, signaling Theodosia had stopped breathing completely. "Stand back!" the teacher ordered, but Alex barely heard her say it. His whole world was sort of in slow-motion, Aaron stumbling backwards, choking on tears and shock written along his face, James looking equally as disturbed and petrified, while their classmates stood around in distress and disarray.

   And there was Thomas. Sitting ever so calmly and placently in the center. Politely backing away, not a look of sadness or shock or bewilderment on his face. Just a tight-lipped frown and wide eyes, looking as if his eyelids were non-existent. A sideways glance at Alexander, before he turned and made his way out of the room. James was too wrapped up in the scene before him to notice that his friend had left.

   Alexander quickly followed Thomas, shutting the door behind him and letting out a yell of anger as he saw Thomas racing out through the double doors, pushing them aside with strong but shaking arms as Alex swiftly pursued him.


	5. it killed you like diseases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thomas and alex have a heart-to-heart.

   Thomas ran. He didn't know where he was running, or why, but he continued, his mind toggling between a cognitive, self-aware state and a mindless state of auto-pilot. He raced to the gates of the school, which were locked, and stopped to catch his breath, clutching his stinging, bandaged finger in his hands and sitting on a nearby bench.

   He barely looked up as Alex's footsteps arrived, and the shorter boy appeared, panting heavily and sitting on the bench across from Thomas, not a word escaping his mouth as not to interrupt his rapid, uneven breathing patterns. Thomas saw Alex's chest heaving before his oxygen levels returned to normal.

   "Why did you do it?" Alexander choked out, as if still holding back a fresh onslaught of tears. Thomas felt moisture forming in his own eyes. He swiftly wiped it away before answering. "I don't know, maybe because I'm a bad person? Have you ever thought of that?" Thomas snapped back.

   Alex glanced at his sneakers, as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. "You're not a bad person."

   "How do you know? You've known me for, what, a day?" "Thomas, we've known each other for years. Don't give me that crap." Alex's relentlessly cold gaze lifted to stare stubbornly into Thomas'.

   "So, what? You still don't know a lot of things about me. Like, for instance, name my first ex-girlfriend." Alexander looked up at him, at a loss for words. "Hint: she died," Thomas said rather bluntly, no emotion conveyed in the thoughtless statement.

   Alexander appeared to be equally unfazed by Thomas' straightforward choice of words. "Martha. Martha Wayles," he finally answered, somewhat numbly. Genuine surprise flashed momentarily in Thomas' unblinking hues.

   He forced it to dissolve quickly. "Alright. You know one thing about me. But that doesn't give you the knowledge of whether or not I'm a good person-"

   "You two dated for three years, since eighth grade. You escorted her to the nurse's office countless times, picked her to play on your P.E. teams, worked together with her on each and every class project that required a team of two. You helped her battle cancer for two of those years. You didn't just leave her like any other immature freshman would when things got scary. You stayed by her side. You are a good person, Thomas Jefferson. And I will never let you forget that. Even if you don't consider yourself one, I do," Alexander sighed, tearing up as he spoke.

   Thomas finally released all the emotions he'd kept bottled up inside. With a pained huff, he jolted forward and pulled Alex into a tight hug. Alex immediately accepted the embrace, wrapping his arms around Thomas' torso as the taller of the pair did the same.  
They stood like that for a couple heartbeats before separating and sitting onto Alex's chosen bench together. "May I explain why-" "Don't. I...I trust you. I trust that the kiss meant nothing, and I already know every single word you're going to utter so truthfully and in such a heartfelt tone. I believe you, and I forgive you," Thomas murmured, nuzzling into Alex's neck and tickling the shorter.

   Alex gave a few childish giggles before returning the seriousness to his demeanor. "Thank you, Thomas." The two sat, gazing deep into each other's eyes and never getting bored, as if staring into an endless galaxy, a beautifully-organized array of glowing stars, scattered here and there perfectly.

   "I love you," Alex breathed out. Thomas chuckled softly. "I know," he mumbled, before pulling his soulmate into a long overdue kiss.


	6. i can hear it in your voice while you're speaking.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thomas realizes his mistake will come with consequences.   
> ( + thomas being uncomfortable about his sexuality and his relationship with alex)

   The next day, Thomas allowed himself to sleep in a bit later than usual. He'd gone to bed late, having stayed up texting his boyf- Alexander - all night. Thomas huffed quietly as he drew back the curtains in his room to reveal beautiful rays of dawn light. For a moment, he stood there in a trance, mesmerized, just content with watching the surreal, painting-like pale orange sky with dashes of faint violet, the sun barely rising.

   Thomas closed his eyes in bliss, before a voice resonated behind him. "Are you going to stand there all day or are you planning on going to class?" His heart jumped in his chest as he spun around with a shocked look on his face.

   "Mom, don't do that!" he scolded, dramatically clamping a hand over his chest, heart beating rapidly. Just as he was about to speak, his mom seemed to read his mind as her lips turned up into a smile. "You're too young to have a heart attack," she said in an all-too-happy tone as she turned and left.

   The tall Virginian chuckled to himself and headed to the bathroom, taking a five-minute shower and combing his hair on the way to the door - after getting dressed and practicing dental and physical hygiene, of course. He waved goodbye to his mother on his way out, agilely catching the apple she so kindly tossed in his direction, another exchange of cheeky grins between the close mother and son duo.

   Thomas jogged lightly to James' house, knocking on the door. "James, are you there? Jemmy?" he called, feet still hopping from side to side energetically. He began to feel concerned when James finally opened the door, very obvious bags under his tired eyes and heavy, fluttering eyelids.

   "Thomas, go away," the shorter groaned exhaustedly. Thomas figured James was still half-asleep or just in a really grumpy mood. But he persisted anyway. "You're not coming to school? Why not? Who am I going to-"

   "You can sit with your new boyfriend," James responded coldly, and Thomas' eyes widened, his face going pale. He hadn't thought of Alex as his boyfriend -- okay, maybe he had a few times -- but he figured that was what it probably looked like to a lot of people. "He's-he's not my boyfriend, James, don't say that, please." Thomas flashed James a pleading glance of embarassment, looking past him and praying his religious parents hadn't heard the hostile remark.

   "Why not? As if any of our classmates would actually believe, even for a minute, that you're straight? Oh, please." James would've mocked laughter if he had enough energy. Thomas was genuinely hurt by his best friend's newly adopted attitude towards him.

   "Where is this coming from, Jemmy?" "Don't call me Jemmy," he growled, gritting his teeth at the other. "You know where this is coming from." "I genuinely don't, please tell me, I'm so perplexed and confused, I-"

   "I saw what you did. And I don't want anything to do with a murderer." With that, James slammed the door in his ex-friend's face, leaving Thomas reeling both physically and mentally. Thomas cupped his face again with his hands, surprised he didn't feel like crying as strongly as he had the day before on numerous occasions.

   It wasn't until he neared the end of his walk to school that he realized just how lonely he felt without his best friend. Thomas' emotions surged back, heightened this time, making him hyper-sensitive and likely to react dramatically to the slightest nasty look or sharp tone.

   Thomas hated when he got like this. But it was worse because he didn't have James to help him through it. How was he going to live without his platonic soulmate? He glanced at the blue string, shaking and bending, around his wrist, then the red one on the other, and watched as droplets of moisture coursed down onto them, his sight becoming blurry as he rushed past people who were walking extremely slow - or maybe they weren't moving at all - in the hallways, racing to the bathroom and locking himself in the farthest stall. He let his entire face melt into wordless tears, eyebrows furrowing and sweaty hands shaking softly as he struggled through his first major panic attack since school had started.

*****  
   Immediately, Alex knew something was up, by the frantic quivering of his and Thomas' string, by the lack of replies from Thomas' phone. Lafayette told Alex he'd texted Thomas twenty-nine times with no response, then John tried, giving up after five, and Alex flooded his soulmate's phone with the other fifty-one.

   Alexander silently prayed to God that Thomas was okay as he hurried into school, into their first-period class, calling Thomas to see if his phone rang and he was maybe hiding somewhere in there. He wasn't.

   Alex rushed to the locker rooms. No sign of him, no familiar ringtone of "Can I Get a Witness?" as he dodged past hordes of boys much taller than him, their voices raising after him in frustration when Alex slid under swinging doors and leaped over clothes sprawled all over the floor.

   He finally decided to check the boys' bathroom on the same floor as his and Thomas' first period class, ringing him one last time. No ringtone. He was about to leave when he heard a faint buzzing noise and the sound of frantic, scuffling hands trying to turn it off.

   But it had already attracted Alex's attention. He raced to the noise, sneakers skidding against the wet regions of the floor. He nearly slipped, but regained his footing and knocked gently on the stall door the vibrations had come from.

   A sigh, the sound of a few measly sniffles, and a muffled voice soon reached his ears. Alex tapped lightly again on the stall, and it opened. Alex was thankful Thomas had chosen one of the bigger stalls to have a break-down in, before dreading the thought and silently kicking himself in disgust, re-locking the door behind him.

   "Thomas, are you okay? What happened?" Alex lowered his voice to a concerned whisper, lips pursing and eyebrows knitting together worriedly. Thomas gazed into his eyes for a moment before averting his gaze. "Don't look at me like that, please. I don't want your pity and I don't deserve your comfort. Stop."

   Yet the small sobs Thomas was visibly struggling to hold back were starting to explode into louder cries. Alexander gently nuzzled his head into Thomas' muscular chest, and the taller of the two didn't budge or fight back. His tense muscles sure didn't relax, but his mood seemed to. His hyperventilating had slowed down, and his tears had decreased rather quickly.

   Alex once again was painfully reminded of the noose-like string around his neck as he attempted to nestle into a certain position beside Thomas' neck. The red string tugged irritably at his nape like a seat belt did to tall people. Thomas probably knew the feeling.

   Alexander frowned as he saw Thomas' gaze shift onto the string, and he began to scoot out of Alex's grasp. Stubbornly, his soulmate held him tightly in place, climbing next to him and gently twirling his frizzy, dark brown curls, springing out joyously as Alex lovingly tended to them as a gardener did to his plants.

   Thomas exhaled deeply and Alex gently placed a hand upon his chest, feeling the palpitations beginning to slow down, giving Alex hope. "So, you wanna tell me what happened?" he murmured softly, instead keeping his eyes locked on Thomas' chest and the soft thuds his beating heart made against Alex's palm.

   "James and I had a falling out... Except he never wants to see me again and wishes I would stop existing." Thomas choked back another sob, this time steeling his gaze and clearing his throat to refrain from giving into the tears desperate to pour from his tired eyes.

   Alexander furrowed his dark brows, fists balling up and removing from Thomas' chest, lifting his head from its place on his soulmate's broad, inviting shoulder. "He said that?" Pure anger pierced the immigrant's usually-warm brown gaze.

   "No, but he made it very clear. The way he looked at me and spoke to me... as if I were a stranger and not someone he'd known for-" Thomas' voice cracked lightly with misery. "Eleven years." With a huff, he brought his knees up to his head and buried his face in his thighs.

   "If it helps, I feel like I've known you for over eleven years. You still have me. James doesn't know what he's missing out on," Alexander smiled playfully, and Thomas chuckled lightly at his soulmate's reassurance, seeming to come out of his shell as he tugged the smaller boy closer. "You're a dork." "I'm your dork." Their lips sealed in a gentle, perfect kiss. 

   Well, it would've been perfect if Thomas hadn't hit his head on the wall as he pulled his head back or if Alexander hadn't landed painfully on his knuckles when he'd leaned back as well. The two gently rubbed their minor injuries before making eye contact and bursting out laughter.

   Alexander gradually got to his feet, holding out a warm, welcoming hand to Thomas, who, without hesitation, took it and got up to stand beside him. "I have an idea," Alexander said with a grin. Thomas quirked an eyebrow, but no words of skepticism drifted from his plush lips.

   James Madison was going to pay. But not right this second, Alexander thought to himself as he grabbed Thomas' hand and hauled him out of school, the bell having rung close to eight minutes ago. They'd been in that bathroom stall for twenty minutes, but it'd felt like five to Alex.

   He led Thomas to the nearest frozen yogurt shop, and they split one, Thomas deciding on a mint-chocolate while Alexander chose the caramel and Hershey's Kisses toppings. "Hey, wanna Kiss?" Alex joked as he and his soulmate dipped their little golden spoons into the frozen yogurt, both taking small bites as they locked eyes. Thomas snickered, leaning forward and shutting his eyes expectantly. Alexander simply snuck a Hershey's Kiss into his boyfriend's mouth, both erupting with laughter and Thomas nearly choking on the small chocolate.

   They headed back to school in time for second period, sadly having to part ways to go to different classes. Alexander had James in his next class. And he was going to unleash hell on earth for Thomas' ex-bestie.


	7. you can't be treated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex resorts to violence and james resorts to begging.  
> (violence tw)

   Alexander entered the classroom, fists and teeth already clenched. If he had claws, they'd be out. The short but fiesty immigrant marched furiously over to James' desk, fixing him with a sharp, hate-filled glare. James simply raised a skeptical brow at the other's sudden hostility.

   "You. Me. Bathroom. Now." Alexander felt the scissors in his pocket jingle slightly, and he prayed James hadn't noticed. James again narrowed his dark brown hues, making Alex's palms shake slightly, afraid that his target had noticed the weapon concealed in his jeans.

   But James just gave a sarcastic remark as expected. "Little forward, aren't you, Hamilton?" A low growl rose in Alexander's throat but he forced it down. "I need to speak with you. It's important." Alex inhaled deeply, giving a sigh as if relinquishing all of his freedom, never to see it again. "Please?" The word made him wince, cringing slightly at the way it rolled off his tongue desperately.

   James' eyes widened in mock amazement. "I never thought I'd hear you say that in a million years," James replied cheekily but got to his feet, the two grasping hall passes and then heading out, neither exchanging a single word or glance as they walked in silence to the boys' restroom.

   As soon as they got there, Alexander checked briefly and vaguely to see if anyone else occupied the stalls. They were empty. Alexander's gaze fixated on the strings attached to James' wrists, one on either side, and one around his waist. One blue, one yellow, one red. He momentarily pondered who the yellow and red ones belonged to, yet couldn't help but glower intensely at the blue one, obviously connecting him to Thomas.

   It had burned a bit on James' end, singing the tip and turning a very dark blue, as if transitioning gradually into black the more their relationship worsened. Alexander suddenly felt choked by the red string around his neck, and swiftly pressed on the water faucet, scooping some water into his mouth from his cupped hands, before swishing it around in his mouth and spitting it back into the sink. Washing down his recycled saliva with more water, Alexander turned to James as he grimaced. "That's disgusting," he sneered at Alex.

   Alexander then gripped the scissors in his pocket, sliding them out and watching James' eyes widen, satisfaction and ambition rushing through him along with the adrenaline rising in his veins. James' gaze lifted up to Alex's, and their eyes locked, dangerously passionate.

   James let out a choked gasp as he backed away, grabbing frantically for a stall door and slamming it behind him. Alex heard it lock as he dashed forward and earned nothing but a door closed bluntly in his face. He leaned against the other side of the stall, as if actually considering waiting for James to eventually come out.

   He heard James dialing a phone, and he swiftly pushed half his body under the stall, unable to fit the other half, stretching up to grasp at James' pant leg and pull it. The shorter boy gasped as he went down, nearly falling into the toilet with a grunt, and his phone went flying right into Alex's hands.

   It had Thomas' number speed-dialed. Alexander made chilling eye contact with a terrified James once again, the scissors brought up again so his target could see them with his own eyes. James quivered lightly, still trying to back away against a wall, having clambered quickly off of the toilet seat.

   A cold sweat was dripping down the petrified boy's face. Alexander could see James' hands shaking, his breath going shallow, his eyes darting wildly from side to side, looking for an escape route. "Alex. Please. Don't. Do this..." he coughed out, beginning to visibly hyperventilate.

   Alexander began to feel pity and regret mixing with the hunger for revenge in his veins. He threw the scissor loudly into the empty, silent sink, and he knew James had heard it clank, as he'd let out a tiny whimper at the sudden noise. Feeling more relaxed, Alex leaned against the stall James was hiding in.

   "You can come out now. I don't bite."


	8. mr. know it all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex briefly notices thomas' strange behavior.  
> james has his greatest fear happen to him.  
> alex realizes the connection he has with james.  
> ( just to clarify, everyone knows they have soulmate/platonic soulmate/enemies/unrequited love strings. they just can't see them, except for alex and thomas, of course. )

   As someone entered the bathroom, Alexander turned, whispering fiercely to James, a high enough volume for only the caged-in Virginian to hear. "Make a single wrong move and I'll end up killing two people today instead of zero," he threatened quietly, eyes full of menace he knew James couldn't see, but was probably picturing just from the tone of Alex's once-friendly voice.

   James audibly gulped but stayed silent as his captor had instructed. He still heard the other's uneven breathing as Thomas trotted in. Alexander quickly raced over to another stall far from James', sliding his phone under it before racing up to greet his boyfriend.

   "Hi, Tommy," he said with a soft smile. Thomas grinned, saying nothing and pulling the shorter of the two into a warm hug, their lips brushing but not fully connecting. Alex let out a needy whine as a result, and an odd, distant look materialized in the Virginian's eyes, one Alex had never seen before.

   He gently let go of Alex, turning and using one of the urinals, still silent, before washing his hands and leaving with a final kiss planted on the immigrant's head. Unsatisfied, Alexander reached for Thomas' sleeve and tugged hopefully at it, but the other shrugged him off, said a numb goodbye, and let the door swing shut behind him, the sink slowly growing quiet again exactly eight seconds after he'd left.

   "I suggest you come out if you don't want your blue string cut," Alexander snarled again, though it was an empty threat. He couldn't risk doing that to Thomas, when he didn't know what would happen. Thomas could end up dead or hurt, because of him. Surely James would be smart enough to realize that?

   But he wasn't. Maybe he valued Thomas more than Alex thought he did. James hesitantly unlocked the tiny stall's door and walked out, glancing anxiously at Alex, then the scissors in the sink blindly overlooked by a distracted Thomas.

   "W-where's my phone?" James murmured worriedly, gaze scanning the room. "That's the least of your worries." Alex brushed close to James, the two standing right by the sink where the scissors lay untouched but cold and steely. James' breath hitched in his throat as Alex's eyes gazed deep into his, penetrating his soul and private thoughts. Or so Alex hoped that was the message that got across.

   He kept James dazed enough to subtly grasp the handle of the scissors, bringing it to his side before his eyes lowered, a coy smile crossing his lips before he sliced quickly at the red string around James' waist. The shorter of the pair gasped and backed away, watching the string crumble to the ground in papery ashes and dust.

   Anger pierced James' gaze, and Alexander noticed the yellow string turn a fiery orange, becoming burnt at one end like the blue string. James managed to wrestle the scissors out of Alex's hands, and bent him over the sink, their chests touching from the close proximity, both breathless, what little breath they had catching in their throats in shock.

   It was just then that Alex realized the yellow string was connected to his ankle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( an extra chapter to make up for not uploading in ten days. i'd really appreciate some feedback and comments on how you're liking this chapter and the one before it! )


	9. had his reign and his fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> james confesses to alex but things don't go as planned.

   Alexander's breath hitched in his throat as he leaned back, his own weapon being used against him as James glared coldly at him, before Alex realized tears were brimming in the other's eyes. "Why would you do that? What did I do to you? I...I really want to hurt you right now, but-"

   That sentence immediately made Alex squirm; he tried to squeeze past James, but the other kept him firmly planted there, forcing him to look into his deep, calculating gaze, full of conflicted emotions. "But I can't do it." James' words contradicted his actions, as he kept the sharp scissors pressed to Alex's sternum.

  
   "Why not?" The immigrant dared to ask. His daring brown eyes met James', unwavering, unblinking, lacking any fear or any significant emotion. Alex almost looked bored with the situation. In reality, he was terrified right now and would likely be hyperventilating if it wasn't for the adrenaline still coursing fresh through his body.

  
   "Because..." James gave him a pained look, before loosening his grip a bit. Alex found himself losing the urge to run away, instead gazing at the boy he'd hurt with curious, round pupils.

  
   "I love you." James sighed and the scissors clattered to the tile floor loudly. Tears were now spilling down the boy's cheeks. Alexander's eyes widened in shock and he raised his dark brows in skepticism. "No, you don't. Are you messing with-"

  
   "I'm not, Alex!"  
    "Tell me the truth, James, quit-"

  
   James swiftly squatted, grasping the scissors and reinforcing their position at the region where Alex's chest and neck met. He cast the taller boy a threatening glower, and Alex returned it without a trace of hesitance or reluctance.

  
   "I am telling the truth." James quickly used his free hand to start wiping his tears away with the sleeve of his sweater. Alexander felt his heart twist with pity. He stole a glance down at the yellow string connecting them together by fate. He noticed it growing a darker orange, nearly into a red, similarly to a soulmate string. James noticed it too. "Alex, you...? Do you-"

  
   He was interrupted by the ring of his phone in the stall across. James huffed before turning back to Alex, ignoring his loud ringtone that blasted and echoed throughout the hollow, otherwise quiet walls of the boys' restroom. "Do you feel the same, Alexander? Tell the truth." The immigrant blinked softly as he realized his words were being used against him, just as the scissors were.

  
   Then, the ringtone was cut off and the bathroom was silent again. Just the sound of the two boys' soft breathing. "I-" Alex was cut off as the bathroom door swung open and Thomas came marching in, stopping and letting his phone slip from his hand in absolute shock at the scene before him.

  
   Alex realized how bad the situation probably looked, his scrawny self bent over the sink with James holding him down, scissors close to his neck, their chests touching, both panting heavily, and opened his mouth to shout something along the lines of "Thomas, don't!" or "Thomas, wait a minute!" but he'd run out of time as his tall, well-built boyfriend lurched forwards and threw James off of him.

  
   "Don't touch him, James!" Thomas hissed in anger and watched with slight satisfaction as James' head hit the wall and he landed dazed beside it, gathering himself on the floor, pressing a hand to his likely-throbbing skull. "Thomas-" Again, Alex was ignored as the other lunged at James, kicking him while he was already down. Literally.

  
   Then he dragged him onto his feet, causing Alex to bite his lip hard and wince as James' panicked, agonized cries reached his ears. "Thomas, I didn't- it's not what it looks like, please don't-" Alexander viewed the one-sided fight with horror as Thomas' hands seized tightly around James' neck, and the much shorter boy began coughing, choking back sobs and giving pathetic little kicks at Thomas' knees, of course leaving him unfazed and dealing no damage.

  
   Alexander couldn't stand it anymore. He raced forwards and gave Thomas as hard a shove as he could manage. The taller stumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in surprise, eyes swirling with different emotions as they settled upon his short boyfriend, defending his attacker. "Alex, what are you-" James' weak body sank to the floor and he coughed, gasping and greedily taking in as much air as possible. Alexander crouched beside him. "Are you okay?" James nodded quickly, paralyzed gaze still glazed over with shock and fear.

  
   "Explain," Thomas snarled, still looking like he wished to do worse to his ex-best friend. Alex frowned, furrowing his brows before wordlessly pointing to the papery pile of ashes on the floor, then Thomas' and James' strings. Thomas took a moment to contemplate it before realization hit him like a bus.

  
   "Alex, did you...Did you cut James' soulmate string?" Thomas appeared extremely hurt and betrayed. Alexander parted his lips to respond before shutting them and nodding guiltily, head bowing like a dog about to be punished. Thomas stared in terror at his injured and petrified best friend, then his boyfriend, sitting unharmed beside him. Then his eyes landed upon the reddish-orange string connecting the two shorter boys. "No."

  
   Alexander processed the statement for a heartbeat, appearing confused and puzzled. "I'm sorry, what?"

  
   "Get away from him. Get out, just get out!" Thomas' voice rose in a wail of fury and misery. Alexander swiftly rolled onto his feet and dodged Thomas as his head cocked towards him to watch him go. Alex glanced over his shoulder to see Thomas fall to his knees and wrap his arms around a shaken James, who sobbed and flinched before giving in and burying his tear-stained face in his best friend's shoulder. Thomas spoke in a hushed, comforting voice and Alex felt tears form in his own hues as he left the scene.


End file.
